Learn To Love Again
by yeahsurekthxbai
Summary: Sixty years since the Battle of Five Armies, and Tauriel still carries Kili in her heart. Legolas' feelings for the red-headed Silvan elf have not changed with time, and Tauriel, still grieving, is unwilling to open her heart once more. But with Legolas joining the Fellowship of the Ring and the war that is to come, perhaps, just perhaps, Tauriel will learn to love again.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is actually a request from one of my friends. I don't really ship Legolas and Tauriel, but it was a lot of fun writing this!**

**But no worries. I'm not abandoning my other stories for this one haha. **

**Reviews would be fantastic. Just saying. **

* * *

_Blood and darkness and fire and the clash of steel against steel and shrieks and battle cries and arrows soaring through the air –_

_And there he was, looking up at her, smiling faintly at her, and his eyes, once so bright, so full of life, were fading –_

_And then they were empty – _

_Lifeless._

_Dead._

"_She walks in starlight in another world."_

_She can hear a scream, and then her weapons are dropping to the ground, and she realises the scream is coming from her, is ripping through her – _

"_It was just a dream."_

_The world is spinning, spinning and whirling around her, and she is weaving through the fallen bodies, dropping to her knees, and she can only see his face in her mind, see his lifeless body – _

"_Do you think she could have loved me?"_

_And long, cool arms are wrapping around her, hands around her waist, holding her close, enclosing her in a warm embrace, soft and safe and comforting._

_Yes, she wants to scream. Yes, she could._

* * *

"Tauriel. Tauriel."

Her eyes snapped open.

Legolas, leaning over her, his eyes glinting in the darkness, full of worry and concern. His long blond hair fell about him, and Tauriel was suddenly consciously aware of his hands on her shoulders, of how close he was to her.

Almost instinctively, she shrugged her shoulders, backed away.

"You were having a nightmare."

Tauriel had to turn away.

"It was nothing." She kept her eyes averted away from him. "Thank you for awakening me."

She had already clambered out of her bedroll and was walking away when Legolas called out, "It cannot merely be nothing, to still be dreaming of the same battle after sixty years when you have gone through so many others."

Tauriel froze.

She shut her eyes, took in a deep breath.

And there he was, beneath her eyelids, smirking at her, staring at her, smiling at her, looking at her with those eyes so deep and so bright and so full of –

Her eyes snapped open once more.

"It has affected me more so than the others." She turned slightly, turned so her eyes met Legolas', and was thankful for the sun rising behind her, grateful that it kept her face mostly in darkness. "That is all."

He took a step closer. "Tauriel – "

"How long shall it take to reach Rivendell?" she interrupted, not wanting to have this painful conversation. Not when she could still see his face in her mind. Not when the memory was still so fresh.

"We should reach by nightfall. Tauriel – "

"Then let us make haste and be on our way." She turned her back to him once more, scanned the vast expanse of forest before them. "I shall awaken the others. We have travelled long – it would not do to delay our arrival more than necessary."

* * *

Legolas wondered if it had been wise to bring Tauriel along on this journey.

She had changed, in the past sixty years. She had become colder, more aloof, throwing herself into her duties as part of the Guard with a ferocity he had never seen before, never leaving Mirkwood. She had been different ever since their encounter with Thorin Oakenshield and his company sixty years ago, ever since the Battle of the Five Armies.

Ever since that dark-headed dwarf had fallen.

Legolas was no fool.

Even now he could remember how the dwarf had looked at Tauriel, how she had not looked away, but responded in kind.

"_Why does the dwarf stare at you so, Tauriel?"_

"_Who can say? He is quite tall, for a dwarf. Do you not think?"_

"_Taller than some, but no less ugly."_

And even now he could recall how she hadn't replied, how she had turned away.

How he had found her, later that night, sitting by his cell, seeking a conversation with him.

"_All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars."_

"_I always thought it a cold light, remote and far away."_

"_It is memory, precious and pure. Like your promise. I have walked there sometimes, beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light forever fill the air."_

_The wistful look on her face, how the dwarf had stared at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes._

How she had gone after him when he had been injured, poisoned.

"_She went into the forest armed with her bow and blade. She has not returned."_

How she had chosen to heal him, and to stay with him.

Legolas kept his eyes fixed on her as she deftly woke the others, silently packed her things.

He couldn't remember exactly when it was that he had begun to care for her.

For years they had grown together, fighting, sparring, exploring, challenging each other, him the Prince of the Woodland Realm and her a Captain of the Guard.

But she had never merely been a Captain of the Guard, not to him.

She had been his friend.

And then, one day, it had simply turned into something more than that.

Tauriel, beautiful Tauriel, fierce and strong and brave and true. A warrior, a soldier, a fighter through and through. And at the same time gentle, so gentle; finding beauty in delicate blossoms, in the starry night sky, in the wandering path through Mirkwood.

He knew his father would never have approved. Would never have let him pledge himself to her. Not to a 'lowly Silvan elf'.

Legolas hadn't cared.

And now, sixty years later, nothing had changed.

* * *

"How goes the council?"

Legolas glanced up to see Tauriel appear, walking in from the balcony, her long red hair flowing behind her as it always did.

"Well," he said. "I am a part of the Fellowship of the Ring."

"I know," she said. "Two young hobbits ran past not a moment ago, talking rather loudly and excitedly about a blond elf accompanying them."

The faintest of smiles flickered over her face.

Legolas watched her.

"They would not happen to be by the names of Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, would they?"

"I believe so," Tauriel said, that smile flickering over her face once more. "They called each other Merry and Pippin."

"They bring much laughter and joy."

He kept his eyes on her, wondered if her smile would slip away.

"That they do."

The smile was still there.

"They inquired after the colour of my hair," she continued, looking past him, not moving from her place. "They did not believe an elf would have hair the colour of fire, and spent much time debating over it before choosing to ask me."

"It is a colour to match your heart and your soul."

She glanced over at him then.

"And what does your hair say of you, Legolas?"

He felt his heart soar.

He couldn't remember having conversations like this with her, not for a long time. Not for over sixty years had she spoken to him in such a way. No, for the past sixty years she had remained quiet, cold. Emotionless and aloof.

"Will you not tell me?" he said, and he felt a smile spreading over his face.

Her smile widened slightly before fading, before she moved to stand next to him.

"When will you leave?"

"Two days hence."

"Ah." She glanced briefly at him again, and looked away. "I shall not be accompanying the others on their return to the Woodland Realm."

"What?"

He spun around to face her properly, eyes widening.

"I shall not be accompanying them," she repeated. "I shall linger in Rivendell a while longer, if Lord Elrond should allow it."

"Why?"

She raised her eyes to meet his.

"Gimli, son of Gloin, was accompanied here by his father," she said, softly. "And here stays a hobbit by the name of Bilbo Baggins."

He felt himself grow cold.

He knew it had not been wise to bring her here.

"The past is in the past, Tauriel."

Her eyes hardened, slightly.

"It does not do to forget."

She turned away.

"I have also met the Lady Arwen," she continued. "Lord Elrond's daughter. She is pleasant to be with."

"My father will not be pleased that you have chosen to stay."

"Your father ceased to regard me with any respect sixty years ago, Legolas."

* * *

"Promise me something, Legolas."

Tauriel stood before him, her face an expressionless mask.

The rest of the Fellowship stood behind him, saying their last goodbyes before leaving.

"What would you have me promise?"

She looked up at him, before glancing away, briefly.

"You are the only friend I have ever truly had." Her hands closed around each other. "Promise me that you shall return."

_The only friend I have ever truly had._

_Promise me that you shall return._

He felt his heart lift, slightly.

It did not matter, did not matter so very much, that she still only regarded him as a friend.

She wanted him to return.

"I promise, if you shall give me one in return."

Tauriel turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"Promise me that you shall do your best to heal, while you are here in Rivendell, away from everything."

She raised her eyes to meet his.

"I promise."

* * *

Tauriel stared out at the night sky above her, stars glimmering, glittering, looking down on her.

Encasing Rivendell in their light.

Starlight.

She shut her eyes.

Master Baggins had been pleasant enough to converse with, telling her of all that had happened in their quest all those years ago before her encounter with them, of Kili and his brother Fili and their uncle Thorin, of tales that the other dwarves had told him regarding one of the youngest members of the company of Thorin Oakenshield.

Gloin, on the other hand, had not known how to react when he had seen her, and their talk had been slightly awkward before they finally fell into simple, easy conversation, with her telling him all that had happened to Mirkwood and Thranduil since their time there – not an easy task, for it had been a long time since Tauriel had truly cared about what happened to Mirkwood or her King – and him talking of how they had picked up the pieces of their life together again after reclaiming Erebor.

After the battle.

After their King had fallen, and the line of Durin broken.

Tauriel took a deep breath, opened her eyes.

It had been three weeks since Legolas and the Fellowship of the Ring had left, three weeks since the party from Mirkwood had returned home. Three weeks since she and Legolas had exchanged their promises. Three weeks since Lord Elrond had granted her permission to stay in Rivendell for as long as she needed.

Rivendell had been good to her. She finally felt more at peace than she had had for years; she could not remember feeling this calm in what felt an age.

Not for sixty years.

She supposed this was what Legolas had meant, in asking her to do her best to heal while still in Rivendell.

And yet in her mind she could still see her dark-haired dwarf's face, could still see his smile, hear his laughter. Could see the light fading from his eyes, hear his choked gasp as he and his brother both fell.

"He has grown much wiser, since I saw him last."

She whirled around.

"Lord Elrond."

"I am surprised you did not hear my coming," he remarked, moving to stand next to her, placing his arms on the balcony railings.

"I was lost in thought."

"So I could see."

Elrond glanced at her, before turning his eyes to the night sky.

"Who were you speaking of?" Tauriel asked, finally, after a long moment of silence between them.

He ignored the question.

"The Wood Elves, I know," he said, "have always found the greatest beauty in the light of the stars."

"Starlight is pure. Precious."

"So it is. As your relationship with the Prince of the Woodland Realm."

"My lord – "

He held up a hand. "Allow me to speak."

Tauriel fell silent.

"Sixty years since I last saw Legolas," he said. "Such a short period of time. And yet he has grown so much within these sixty years that it may seem like a thousand."

He turned to face her.

"Do not live in the past. If you could but open your eyes, you would see how much he has changed. You would see how, despite Gimli's antagonistic nature towards him, Legolas bears him no ill-will. You would see how he places the fate of Middle-Earth, what must be done to save it, before all else. You would see how willing he is to fight and to do what is right."

Tauriel kept her eyes fixed on the stars.

"You would see the way in which he looks at you."

Her hands clenched on the railing.

"I know that you still suffer from your loss." He turned to face the sky once more. "I understand your pain. But remember that though we elves love rarely, we may love more than once, and we love true. It is always possible to open your heart to another; it does not mean that you are forgetting the old. It merely means you have the strength and the capacity to love again."

Lord Elrond stepped back from the railing.

"I have seen the love in Aragorn and Arwen's eyes, have seen how they look at each other. He is a good man, but he is still a man; and yet what they share is real and unbreakable. It is a love so true, so strong, yet it does not blind them to each other's faults, or to what is happening around them."

She closed her eyes, thought of Arwen; Arwen, whose love for Aragorn burned so strong and bright and true it was painful.

"It is the same way that Legolas looks at you."

Elrond turned away, glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Goodnight, Tauriel."


	2. Chapter 2

Deep in the mines of Moria, as Gimli wept over his cousin Balin's death, Legolas could recall the old dwarf, white-bearded and seemingly the wisest of the whole of Thorin Oakenshield's company. Legolas had had little love for dwarves at that age, but even he could respect the old dwarf, no matter how grudgingly; how it was he that held the company together, the one who counselled them and thought things through before acting rashly, unlike Thorin himself.

Thorin's rash and reckless nature, passed onto his younger nephew, that dark-haired dwarf who had stared at Tauriel so admiringly. Whose death Tauriel had still not recovered from, never mind that they had encountered death in battle so many times before, never mind that she had known him for but a short while.

Tauriel had proven that there did not need to be enmity between elves and dwarves, and though Gimli, son of Gloin, was nothing but antagonistic towards Legolas at the beginning of their quest, the prince of the Woodland Realm would not forget that there had once been friendship between elves and dwarves, and that there could be again.

Even if it had been more than friendship, with Tauriel and the dark-haired nephew of Thorin Oakenshield.

* * *

When they began their search for Merry and Pippin, chasing down the Uruk-hai, Legolas was reminded of another time, another place, another prey; of sixty years ago, hunting down the Orcs with Tauriel, following them to Laketown, following them to where the dwarves had taken refuge.

To where Kili, nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, had lain in the house in Laketown, dying from poison.

To where Tauriel had reached the reason for her journey.

It had been then, standing in the doorway, waiting for her to follow him, that Legolas had realised exactly why Tauriel had left the Woodland Realm.

Not merely to hunt down the Orcs, to rid the evil that had begun to take over their realm.

No.

It had been to save that dark-haired dwarf, tall and young and reckless, who had thrown himself into danger's path to ensure the company's escape, who had been pierced with the poisoned arrow.

He had seen the look in her eyes, had seen the anguish on her face when she glanced from her Prince to the dwarf writhing on the bed.

That whole hunt from Mirkwood to Laketown, it had never truly been about ridding their world of the evil overtaking them. It had always been on her mind, he had known. She had always wanted to do something, to kill the evil at its source, and yet had followed Thranduil's commands and had never done so.

It had taken the poisoning of that dark-haired dwarf to finally cause her to set out, to go against his father's commands.

And he had not realised it, had not realised the hold the dark-haired dwarf had over her, not until he had stood in the doorway and called her name and saw her stand still, caught between following him on the hunt for the Orcs and to stay and save the dwarf from the poison flowing through his veins.

And it was in that moment that Legolas knew he truly loved her.

How could he make her follow him when her heart and mind so clearly belonged elsewhere?

When he knew she would never forgive herself, would never be at peace, if she left the dark dwarf as he was?

And so he had turned and left, leaving the decision to her – to whether she would choose to stay and heal the dwarf, or to follow him.

It was not a moment later that he'd had to force down the pain and the ache that overcame him, had to force it down and keep his mind on the task at hand, when he realised that she had stayed.

* * *

"Who is she?"

Legolas had heard Eowyn approach from behind him, had heard her as she tread lightly through the rest of the people of Rohan to walk alongside him, leading her horse. For a moment he wondered where Gimli was, for it was clear that the dwarf admired the strong shield-maiden greatly; but then he pushed the thought aside, and instead turned his focus to her question.

"The woman that you're thinking of," Eowyn clarified, as if unsure whether Legolas had understood her.

"What would make you think that there is a woman on my mind, my lady?"

He looked straight ahead, the thought of Tauriel in his mind; Tauriel, who would have despised King Theoden for fleeing instead of fighting, never mind that the King believed it to be the best decision to spare his people as much pain and suffering as possible. Tauriel, who would have flitted through the long train of people, who would have scouted ahead and would have made him smile, who would have sparred with him and who would have sat up to watch the stars in the night sky, who would have made this journey so much shorter.

"I have seen that look on your face, many times before, on many men," said Eowyn. "It is the look of one thinking of their loved ones, thinking of whom it is that makes them whole."

He saw her head turn briefly, turn to where Aragorn was riding with King Theoden, and felt a pain in his heart, knowing that the young woman next to him did not know of Arwen.

He had not the heart to tell her.

"If my question offends, you need not answer." Eowyn sounded slightly worried.

"No, my lady. I have taken no offence." He turned his head then, turned and smiled at her. "There is indeed someone whom I love, and it was her I was thinking of."

"What is she like?"

"Strong," said Legolas, softly, "strong, and brave, and true, and beautiful. She will never hesitate to do what she believes is right, and she is fierce and bold and courageous, and yet she is delicate and gentle, able to see the danger and beauty in everything."

"She is a lucky woman indeed, to be so loved by someone."

"She is everything to me."

"And you, my lord, are lucky indeed if you have found such a woman in your life."

He had to close his eyes briefly, shut them and open them again.

"If only it were so." He did not know why he was continuing to speak; he could merely smile and nod, let her believe that Tauriel loved him as he loved her. And yet something was making him speak; maybe it was because his feelings had been bottled up for so long, maybe it was because of the way that she looked at Aragorn when the heir of Isildur was already in love with someone else, he knew not – he knew only that he had to continue speaking. "Her heart still mourns for another who loved her just as true, and who was slain in battle years ago. She suspects little of my feelings toward her."

There was silence as Eowyn registered his words.

Almost at once, the young woman felt horrified.

To love someone so deeply and for them not to return that love – she could imagine nothing more painful.

The thought of Aragorn flashed into her mind; but Eowyn pushed it away, forcing herself to think of the elf walking alongside her, the pain evident in his clear eyes.

"I am sorry, my lord," she said, finally, quietly. "I did not mean to bring up such painful thoughts."

Legolas shook his head.

"It is my hope that she will heal," he told her. "I have seen the love she bore for the slain warrior, and have seen it to be real and true, and I know that he loved her in return. I do wish for her to love me, that is true; yet if she could but mend her heart and heal, then that is enough."

What was he doing? To spill his innermost secrets to a young woman he knew only briefly? Even Aragorn knew not the extent of his love for Tauriel; Aragorn, whom Legolas loved as a brother, whom he would trust with his life.

"To love someone so deeply, my lord, even if one does not receive the same love in return, is a sign of strength," said Eowyn.

Legolas only smiled at her.

"It is my belief, my lord, that one day, her heart will heal, and she will learn that she is able to love once more."

* * *

"_Then I shall die as one of them!"_

It was, admittedly, not something that Tauriel would have said. She would have fought to live; she would not accept death. Even when the battle seemed hopeless, she would not even consider death as a possibility.

And yet, it reminded Legolas so strongly of her, of how she would fight, and keep fighting, and would not give up hope nor falter in her strength and belief that there was something worth fighting for. Not even when the odds were against them, when they had little chance of winning.

No.

She would press on.

She would not have given up nor despaired.

And Aragorn – Aragorn, whom he trusted with his life. Aragorn would not lead them astray.

Tauriel would have been horrified at the lack of faith he had in his friend.

He found him in the armoury, pulling on his armour, and before he could reach for his sword, Legolas took it and passed it to him.

Aragorn looked up at him.

"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray." Legolas looked into his eyes. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Yes, he thought. He had been wrong to despair. What would Tauriel have said if she had known? Even if he had not been able to fulfil his promise to return, she would have understood; she would have accepted that he had died defending the people of Rohan, that he had fought and kept fighting to his last breath.

She would not have mourned so deeply for him, not like how she had mourned for Kili, nephew of Thorin.

Legolas pushed the thought out of his mind.

"Ú-moe edhored, Legolas." _There is nothing to forgive._

And they clapped one another on the shoulders, and smiled at each other.

"If we had more time, I'd get this adjusted," a gruff voice said then, and both turned around to see Gimli struggling towards them, holding up his chainmail. He glanced up briefly at them, and then released the silvery material; and Legolas had to hold back a laugh as the chainmail fell right to the floor.

Gimli glanced up at them again.

"It's a little tight across the chest."

Dwarves, Legolas thought, were far from bad company, able to bring humour into the most hopeless situations.

He had to fight back a smile.

And then a horn sounded, loud and long and low.

He glanced up, sharply.

"That is no Orc horn."

* * *

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." Even running out of the armoury, Legolas could hear Haldir's voice, clear and loud. "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir glanced up as Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli appeared, running down the steps, and the elf smiled.

"We come to honour that agreement."

Haldir looked surprised as Aragorn flung his arms around him, hugging him tightly, before pulling back.

"You are most welcome."

Legolas clasped him on the shoulder, and Haldir did the same.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir called out, turning to face Theoden; and then he turned again, briefly, to look at Legolas, and said, in a low voice, "There is someone here who wishes to speak with you."

And Legolas looked up sharply as a figure moved out of the ranks, and lowered her hood to reveal a familiar face with long, fiery red hair.

* * *

"It is a long journey, from Rivendell to Lorien."

Tauriel glanced at Haldir, who stood next to her, watching the rest of the army of elves set up camp for the night, quickly, quietly, efficiently.

"Indeed it is," she said.

"A long journey indeed, to remind us of the alliance between elves and men, when Elrond could have merely communicated with the Lady Galadriel."

"I wished to come, and to fight as well."

"So I see." Haldir looked at her, briefly, before turning away. "I have heard much of you, Tauriel of the Woodland Realm."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." He nodded. "There are few who have heard of the story of Thorin Oakenshield's company as they passed through the Woodland Realm, and I am one of them."

"What have you heard of a mere Captain of the Guard, I wonder?"

"Enough to know that your time in Rivendell has served you greatly." Haldir smiled at her, inclined his head, and moved away.

Tauriel remained, standing still.

_Your time in Rivendell has served you greatly_.

Yes, she thought. Her time in Rivendell had indeed served her well.

The peace of mind she had encountered in her stay there had not left her as she journeyed from Rivendell to Lorien, and from Lorien to Helm's Deep.

She could still feel the ache in her heart, the pain and longing that Kili's death had brought, the ache she had never been able to recover from.

And yet, now, she could feel it fading, ever so slightly; still there, but an echo of what it once was.

It scared her.

Would she forget Kili completely, if this pain left her? Would she forget the way he had looked at her, the way he had spoken to her in his state of sickness, the way he had smiled at her?

She closed her eyes, thought of her last night in Rivendell, the night before she had left for Lorien on Elrond's errand.

"_You have changed much in your time here in Rivendell, Tauriel."_

"_My lord Elrond." She nodded to him, ceased her packing for a moment. "I feel better – better than I have had for years."_

"_For what would seem like an age, no doubt."_

"_That is so."_

"_I hope you will keep in mind what I told you, all those weeks ago." Elrond looked up at her, met her eyes. "It is always possible to open your heart to another; it does not mean that you are forgetting the old. It merely means you have the strength and the capacity to love again."_

"_I have not forgotten."_

_She felt a pang in her heart as she thought of Legolas; Legolas, who had always been there for her, who had remained by her side in the past sixty years, even as she had turned into a shadow of what she once was, even as she carried the pain of Kili's death in her heart, even as she had turned cold and aloof. She remembered her talk with Thranduil, all those years ago, the talk that had come so coincidentally with the arrival of Thorin Oakenshield's company and his dark-haired nephew; of how her King had made her remember that she was a lowly Silvan elf, one whom he could never let his son pledge himself to. _

"_Do not live in the past, Tauriel." _

_Elrond had smiled at her, one last time, before retreating to the doorway._

"_Learn to love again."_

* * *

The day before they were due to reach Helm's Deep, Haldir had spoken to Tauriel once more.

"I believe you would wish to speak with Legolas."

She turned her head sharply at that. "What?"

Haldir raised his eyebrows. "As he is your prince, I assumed you would wish to speak with him when we have reached."

"Oh." Tauriel turned away again, lowered her head.

Legolas, who had never wavered from her side.

Who had only ever wanted her to heal.

Who had let her grieve for Kili, and had never once let her know of his feelings for her.

Who had never asked her to love him.

"Yes," she said. "I would wish to speak with him."


	3. Chapter 3

Legolas didn't know what to feel.

He stepped forward, numbly, as Tauriel stood before him, beautiful, lovely, strong, brave Tauriel, her face framed by her fiery hair.

He was vaguely aware of Aragorn holding Gimli back as he stepped forward to meet her.

"Legolas," she said, her lips twisting into a smile.

"Tauriel."

He could not hold back the wonder, the amazement in his voice as he said her name, and he knew, suddenly, that Aragorn and Gimli both understood, in that moment, exactly what Tauriel meant to him.

He could not care less.

"It has been long since I saw you," she said. "I would have thought your journey would have changed you, yet there seems to be little change that I can see."

"Perhaps we must talk, for you to discover how I have changed in my journey."

"I should think we must."

She smiled again, at him, and he could not help the smile that spread across his face.

* * *

They walked together, that day, as the sky fell ever darker around them.

There were still hours to the battle, and the more they talked, the more time he spent with her, the more he could forget how impossible this looming battle seemed.

She was, he noticed, different.

She was not so withdrawn, not as cold nor aloof as she had been for the past sixty or so years. She talked, she smiled, she even laughed; she spoke of her stay in Rivendell and her journey to Lothlorien, she listened earnestly when Legolas recounted his own adventures, from their journey through Moria to their search for Merry and Pippin to their time in Rohan.

She had, he thought, healed somewhat; there was still some sadness in her eyes, sadness and pain that ran deep.

But it was a sadness that no longer overwhelmed her, a pain that no longer haunted her every step.

"I think you would like the Lady Eowyn," he told her, as they wandered through Helm's Deep. "She is a shield-maiden of Rohan, and she does not care for staying behind and staying safe when she could stand and fight – in fact, I believe she resents having to be a woman, at times."

"I've no resentment over my own gender, thank you," said Tauriel, and he caught her smile, and he smiled back.

* * *

"What will you do, after this battle?"

They sat on a low stone wall, side by side, staring out over Helm's Deep.

"Will you return to Mirkwood?"

Legolas watched her, closely, for her response.

"No," she said, finally, after a long silence, as she watched the sun sink lower beneath the horizon. "No. I shall not."

"What will you do, then?"

Tauriel found herself clasping her hands together, still looking straight, not looking at Legolas. Legolas, good, kind Legolas, who had always been there for her.

"You have always been at my side, especially in the past years," she said, quietly. "It is only right that I now do the same for you. I will follow you, and fight with you, in whatever battles that are to come."

"Tauriel – "

She turned to face him then, glaring fiercely at him.

"Do not think to change my mind, or to order me otherwise," she said. "You know that I would not listen."

"Do not do this only because I have never left you, these few decades."

He had a feeling that she knew what his feelings for her were – yet he would not, could not, speak out.

He could not tell her that he had stayed by her, that he would always stay by her, because he loved her, that he would always love her, and that she was a part of him that he could never abandon.

"I do this because you are my friend."

_Because you are my friend_.

"You still suffer from that battle all those years ago," he said, not wanting to name the battle, not wanting to name the loss that she had suffered. "I could not let you face battle after battle once more – "

"This is not your decision to make." She had turned back away from him.

In her mind, she could still see the battle, that battle sixty years ago, could still hear the cries and howls, could still see _him _falling –

"This is mine."

Legolas thought of how broken she had been after seeing Kili, nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, fall; could still remember how he had had to pull her away, how he had had to carry her away from his fallen body and the bloody, ghastly battle –

"Tauriel – "

"What else would you have me do?" she demanded, fiercely, her head whirling back, her eyes staring straight at him. "Would you have me return to Mirkwood, and do nothing, while this evil takes over our world? Would you have me stay safe, to protect myself, when there is evil that can be fought against, that I can fight against? There are things worth fighting for, Legolas, and I shall not sit by and do nothing when I may fight for them!"

"No," Legolas found himself saying, and hardly aware of what he was doing, clasped his hands over hers.

Tauriel raised her eyes to look at him.

"I would have you stay with me, and fight with me, if that is truly what you wish."

The faintest of smiles flickered over her face. "There has to be someone to ensure that you stay alive."

"I have managed it quite well this far."

"I do believe that it is the dwarf and Aragorn who have managed that successfully."

"Do you have so little faith in me?"

"I would not like to say."

A throat was cleared.

"Legolas."

Both elves glanced up, sharply, moved away from each other slightly, at the sound of the voice.

Aragorn stood before them, Gimli at his side.

"We must prepare for battle, and we must prepare the men as well," Aragorn said.

Gimli was looking at her curiously.

"I understand." Legolas slipped down from the low stone wall, glanced back up at Tauriel. "I shall see you later."

"I'll be counting," she called out.

"As will I," he said, smiling. "I have been competing with Gimli this journey – not much of a challenge, I am afraid."

"Excuse me," the dwarf barked. "I am right _here_! And not much of a challenge? I'll give you a challenge, just you wait. I've killed my fair share of Uruk-hai and Orcs this journey, and I'm about to kill many more!"

Legolas chuckled, and Tauriel managed a smile.

"I shall be glad to compete with you as well, Gimli, son of Gloin," she said. "I look forward to fighting alongside you."

* * *

"This is the same Tauriel who was once in love with Kili, the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, is it not?"

Legolas looked up, sharply, at Gimli, standing opposite him, not looking up as he glanced over his weapons.

"What do you know of it?"

He knew Aragorn was listening, as the man drew his sword out and glanced over it.

"Kili was my friend," said Gimli. "After his brother, I was closest to him. I was deemed too young to go on the quest for Erebor, and so I stayed behind. But after the battle, after everything that had happened, stories were told, again and again; and one of the lesser-known stories, told only to those who had been close to the dwarves who had perished, was that of Tauriel of the Woodland Realm and her love for Kili of the line of Durin, and his love for her."

Legolas was standing still, his back straight, staring at the wall.

"It must have been a beautiful tale," Aragorn said.

"Beautiful, yes," Gimli agreed. "But tragic and sad, and full of hope."

"Why hope?"

The words were out before Legolas could take them back.

"Hope that there is indeed such a love for everyone," said Gimli. "And hope that there is always the possibility of finding new love; that one cannot mourn forever, but instead keep the death of a loved one in their hearts, and open up their hearts to love another."

"I do not see how their story could have reason for such a hope."

"Perhaps it is because the story has not yet reached its end."

* * *

Tauriel.

He wondered where she was, as they assembled on the battlements of Helm's Deep. Surely she was around somewhere, among the mass of elves who had gathered to fight, now standing in straight lines with their bows. Her fiery hair would stand out immediately, a torch in this darkness.

But he could not see her.

And yet - the thought of her there, standing on the battlements, ready to fight, and to keep fighting, gave him strength.

"You could have picked a better spot," Gimli grumbled, from beside him.

A smile flickered over Legolas' face.

Yes.

There were some things worth fighting for, and to keep fighting for, no matter what.

* * *

Legolas.

She thought of him, as she stood in her blue cloak, her hands ready to fly to her weapons at a moment's notice.

There had been something, she knew, tugging at her heart when she had seen him, when she had stepped forward to meet him.

She had expected to feel happy to see him, but it had been more than that; pure plain happiness and something she could not describe, overwhelming her, filling her head and her heart.

"_It merely means you have the strength and capacity to love again."_

_**To love again.**_

Could that be what was happening to her?

Or perhaps – perhaps it was merely the thought of Legolas, the fact that he was always there for her, that caused this strange, inexplicable feeling within her?

And an image flashed into her mind; a dark-haired dwarf, smiling so brightly at her.

Kili.

She made no movement; she continued standing upright, lost in thought.

She had carried him in her heart for so long, had retreated into herself at his death. She had never cared much for anyone before that; she had only ever had Legolas, who would train with her and talk with her constantly, who was always simply _there_.

And then Thorin Oakenshield's company had arrived.

Kili had arrived.

She could still feel the ache in her heart at the thought of him, at his smile, at his cheeky grin, at his reckless bravery. At the thought of his death.

But it no longer hurt as much; it seemed to her that the pain had grown even lesser ever since she had met Legolas.

And yet – would it not be a betrayal of her heart, a betrayal of him, if she turned to another?

She closed her eyes, briefly.

"_It is always possible to open your heart to another; it does not mean that you are forgetting the old. It merely means you have the strength and the capacity to love again."_

Words that had been spoken to her, more than once.

It was, she thought, so easy for them to be said. But was it so easily done?

Sixty years was a mere blink of the eye to an elf, and yet the past sixty years were some of the longest she had ever gone through.

Her eyes snapped open.

This was not the time for such thoughts.

A fight was approaching, and it was a fight that she was not willing to lose.

All this – all these emotions, this confusion in her heart, these feelings she was so uncertain and unsure of– could be dealt with after the battle.

Provided, of course, that both she and Legolas survived the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I am so, so, sooo sorry for not updating for so long! Just been really, really overwhelmed with schoolwork and stuff, and I haven't had time to even think about what to write D:**

**But anyway, chapter four's finally up haha. I know it's kind of short, and not very fantastic, but I hope you like it! I wanted to get the interaction between Eowyn and Tauriel _just right_ and this was the only one that made me somewhat happy, at least for a first meeting. Don't worry, I'm gonna give them more time together in later chapters! **

**Please review (I know it took me forever to update this, and I know it's a really, really short chapter without a lot of things happening, but I'm serious, reviews keep me going)!**

**So, this chapter was quite important to me. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

It was over.

Tauriel watched, her eyes blank, emotionless, as those still living cheered, as they smiled, laughed.

But her eyes were fixed on the dead bodies strewn across the ground, not only those of the enemy, but those of Elves and Men.

She shut her eyes.

Haldir.

Haldir was dead.

She took a deep breath, opened her eyes again.

He had not deserved to die.

But then, neither had so many others.

So many fallen.

A face flashed across her mind.

Legolas.

Where was he?

She should seek him out, she knew. But she could only stare blankly ahead of her, as the events of the night and the morning washed over her.

_Blood and darkness and fire and the clash of steel against steel and shrieks and battle cries and arrows soaring through the air –_

_And there he was, looking up at her, smiling faintly at her, and his eyes, once so bright, so full of life, were fading –_

"_She walks in starlight in another world."_

She took a deep, shuddering breath, stumbled against the wall behind her.

Kili. She could see him, could see him in the dead lying around her, could see him as the light faded from his eyes, could see him fighting, yelling hoarsely, not willing to give up in battle –

No.

He had fallen decades ago.

He was not here, in this battle, with her.

But someone else had been with her.

"Legolas," she murmured to herself. "Legolas."

And she pushed herself up onto her feet.

* * *

Eowyn had never seen anyone quite like her before.

She stood tall, straight, her red hair shining like fire down her back, looking as if she would fly into battle at a moment's notice. She was alone, standing half-hidden in the corner of the great hall, her eyes searching the room, never staying on any one person for long.

And she was an elf.

All the other elves, after their aid in the battle for Helm's Deep, had returned to Lothlorien.

And yet this fiery-haired elf had stayed, the only elf in the hall apart from Legolas, who was having some type of drinking competition with the dwarf Gimli.

Eowyn's eyes turned to find him, and her gaze softened as they reached Aragorn, standing by their side, smiling to himself, chuckling softly.

"You must be the Lady Eowyn."

The shieldmaiden of Rohan very nearly let out an undignified yelp as she whirled around to find the fiery-haired elf from before standing in front of her, the smallest of smiles on her face.

"Forgive me," the elf said, managing to smooth her expression. "I had no wish to frighten you."

"You did not frighten me," Eowyn said, automatically.

The elf merely raised her eyebrows.

"He is an honourable man," the elf said, after a moment of tense silence in which it was clear that Eowyn was not about to admit that she had been scared, and that she was less than happy about the fact that she had, in all honesty, been frightened. At Eowyn's inquisitive glance, the elf inclined her head towards Theoden. "He has thought not only of the victory, as so many are wont to do – he remembered all those who had died defending them, and honoured them as well. He remembered that they had given up their lives for those they loved, remembered that they too should have been with them here today, celebrating this victory."

Eowyn's gaze softened as she turned her face away from the elf.

"Yes," she said, softly. "He is an honourable man."

"I have not introduced myself," the elf said. "I am Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm."

Woodland Realm.

"_Strong, and brave, and true, and beautiful. She will never hesitate to do what she believes is right, and she is fierce and bold and courageous, and yet she is delicate and gentle, able to see the danger and beauty in everything."_

Almost instinctively, Eowyn raised her head and found Legolas, still with Gimli.

"_She is everything to me."_

"I am companion to Legolas," Tauriel said, "if that is what you are wondering."

"Legolas is a wonderful travelling companion," Eowyn said, recalling their talk on their way to Helm's Deep.

"Indeed," said Tauriel, and she turned her head to find her blond friend, her friend who had stayed with her for so many years, who had never abandoned her.

"Did you fight in the battle?" Eowyn asked, after another few moments of uncomfortable silence on her part.

Tauriel inclined her head. "I did, yes. And yourself?"

"They would not let me fight," Eowyn said, and her face darkened. "I can fight as well as any, and yet they would not let me, and sent me instead to the tunnels and caves with the women and children."

"You wish that you had taken part in the battle."

"Yes."

"You should not wish so."

"Why not?" Eowyn demanded, her gaze now fixed on a faraway point, unwilling to turn and look at Tauriel. "To fight with honour for that which you love, to put your life as a safeguard for everyone else – they may not be able to protect themselves, but I can, and I will not willingly wait to be killed or to be taken a prisoner!"

"Maybe so," Tauriel agreed, "but what of the women and children who look to you, who would need you to guide them? Who have placed their faith in you? Who need you there, for themselves and for their loved ones?"

Eowyn stared at her.

"To fight is honourable," said Tauriel, "but so is playing a role to aid others when you are what they need most."

* * *

"You have met the Lady Eowyn."

"She is a strong woman."

"She is most admirable."

"You pity her."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can see it in your eyes. You pity her for loving someone who cannot love her back."

Legolas turned his head to look at Tauriel.

She stood beside him, hair flowing out in the wind behind her, her eyes fixed on the night sky, the stars glittering in the dark velvet.

"I do," he agreed. "But I have the hope that she will learn to love another."

"She cares for him greatly."

"But that does not mean that Aragorn is the only person she will ever be able to love."

"And yet she will not be able to heal easily."

"It depends on how much she truly cares for him as a person."

"What do you mean?"

Tauriel waited, as Legolas fell silent, gathering his thoughts.

"She may love him for who she thinks he is," he said, finally. "For being who he is supposed to be, for representing so much that she dreams of and longs of. For what he means to her. But not for who he truly is."

There was a long silence.

"I am unable to express myself properly," Legolas said.

"No," said Tauriel, softly. "No."

She looked up at the stars.

"No, I understand you perfectly."


End file.
